Outside the Receiving Lines
by nanniships
Summary: Got a prompt for a proposal, so I paid a little visit to my "Outside the Lines" universe for an "almost" one. My apologies, but this won't make a lot of sense if you haven't already read "Outside the Lines." Two years on and things are changing. I've missed these guys. Not beta'd-apologies for that as well.


Outside the Receiving Lines

Joe Moseley gently shifted the pot containing the Snake Plant a few inches to the left and gave it a little pat. Casting a critical eye over the centerpieces at the rest of the tables, his glance fell on the healthy Christmas Cactus at the main table and a grin crept across his face.

"Stop it," Phyllis commanded, coming up behind Joe and taking his arm. "You're not working tonight."

"I can't help it," he replied with a shrug. "I'm the florist for the event."

"And your job is done and dusted. Tonight, you're a guest at the event." Phyllis smiled and slid her hand into his. "Let them go, Joe. Release them."

Joe squeezed her hand and wished heartily he could drag her over into a convenient alcove for the remainder of the night. It wasn't that he disliked wedding receptions…

It was that he _hated_ wedding receptions. And the vast quantity of tatted up strangers wandering around the banquet hall, yelling moderately obscene greetings to one another, and gearing up to blast into the boozosphere made him feel decidedly out of place.

Phyllis Baxter just smiled as his eyes darted around the room nervously.

"Relax, Joe. You've met most of the folks here - in passing at least."

"Passing was sufficient for most of them," he muttered, wincing when Phyllis punched him hard in the arm. "Bloody hell, Phyllis! It's not healed yet!" Rubbing his bicep where his new tattoo was throbbing, he glared at his girlfriend.

"Didn't stop you last night," she replied with no sympathy.

"Nothing stops me where you're concerned," he replied. At her stern expression, he added quickly: "Except you, of course."

Phyllis made an unsatisfied noise and waved over an older, heavily tattooed bloke whom Joe had definately met before.

"Sam! C'mere and check something out!"

Sam raised his glass and obligingly careened through the crowd.

"Take off your jacket and roll up your sleeve, Joe," she ordered. When his face showed his reluctance to start stripping off in the banquet hall, she rolled her eyes and unbuttoned it herself.

"Alright...alright," he grumbled. Sam arrived and watched with amusement as Phyllis wrestled his jacket off. Joe sighed and undid his cuff, pushing his sleeve up as high as it would go. Phyllis' mentor and friend narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to get a better view of a newly tattooed Christmas Cactus on Joe's bicep.

"You got each and every one of those spines completely defined," he said with admiration. "And the damn thing practically looks malevolent. There a story here?"

"There's always a story, Sam," Phyllis told him with amused exasperation. "I've got a matching, smaller one on my hip."

"You got yours first," Joe interjected, grimacing as Sam grasped his arm and cranked it around to get a different angle. "I was just catching up."

"It's kind of a memorium," Phyllis said with a smirk.

Sam dropped Joe's arm and looked at Phyllis with undisguised pride.

"There's not another artist in Northern England that can do what you do as well as you do it!"

Phyllis looked a bit uncomfortable at his praise. It didn't help that Joe was staring at her like she'd just burst from the forehead of Zeus.

"Well...they should be in any minute," she said, looking away from the two admiring men to gaze over at the entrance of the banquet hall.

"Wonder what's taking them so long?"Joe mused. At Phyllis' direct look and raised eyebrow, he flushed. Sam snorted with laughter and wandered off towards the crowd near the entrance.

"Do you really wonder, Joe?"

"Not really...no. But that doesn't mean I want to _think_ overly much about it. I have to work with one of them, you know."

"No kidding?" Phyllis replied sarcastically. "And I don't, I suppose?"

"You know what I mean...I really don't want to know what they get up to. I don't care what anyone gets up to, other than us."

"I get that," Phyllis admitted. "But it's not like I have a bloody choice. Himself never shuts up and has no filters. Always been that way."

They smiled at each other before a voice yelled: "They're comin'! Get ready!" Grabbing Joe's hand, Phyllis hurried over to where the guests were forming two lines on either side of the door. Small bags of glitter were pressed into their hands.

The excited chatter became a roar as Jimmy and Thomas, both dressed in tuxes, strode through the door hand in hand and were pelted from all sides with handfuls of glitter and splashed with champaign. Soaked and shimmering from head to foot, they paused for a deep, loving kiss in the middle of the line, to howls and whoops of approval.

Phyllis laughed joyfully and dumped her bag of glitter over the embracing couple. Joe followed suit with a grin. Jimmy and Thomas separated reluctantly, but Thomas' attempt to glare at Phyllis was remarkably unsuccessful. Nothing on earth could stop the grin spreading over his face as Jimmy laughed and flipped his champaign dampened hair our of his face.

"Bloody hell! I'll catch me death if I stay in this wet monkey suit," Thomas muttered. "Thanks a lot, you hopeless wankers!"

"So take it off, then!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"Don't jump the gun on the entertainment," Jimmy responded. "And you're not invited to my show."

"They're perfect for each other," Joe murmured to Phyllis, who glanced at him in surprise.

"Yeah, they are. But I never expected to hear you say so."

"Well, I doubt Thomas and I will ever be mates, but I never expected Jimmy to ask me to stand up with him. Could've knocked me over with a petal when he said they were actually getting married." Joe shrugged. "No accounting for taste, I suppose."

"Funny...that's what Thomas said about Jimmy when he found out you'd be standing up with him..."

Joe laughed and followed Phyllis as the crowd moved towards a table supporting a towering, rather obscene tiered cake.

"I know that Mrs. Bittner down to the bakery didn't do _that_ one," Joe said at the sight of it. "Is...is that even anatomically possible?"

"Ask Thomas, if you really want to know," she replied with cheerful exasperation.

"Blissful ignorance suits me at the moment."

"Wise man," Phyllis said, tipping him a wink.

Joe was too busy staring at Phyllis as she bounced on her toes, trying to see over the heads of the crowd as Jimmy and Thomas engaged in a confectionary battle to pay much attention to the excitement. He did, however, catch sight of the two men licking the frosting off of each other's faces.

"My horizons have definitely expanded," he muttered, clapping along with everyone else.

"I'd say they have," Phyllis said quietly, smirking as she cut her eyes at his direction and taking in his somewhat perplexed expression. "Mine have too, you know."

"Really?" he asked brightly. "How so?"

Phyllis took his hand as the crowd began to gather round the cake table, helping themselves to plated slices and taking a few moments to congratulate Jimmy and Thomas sincerely and profanely.

"Lots of ways," she replied, tugging him towards the outskirts of the crowd.

"Aren't we going to get some cake?"

"In a minute. It's too crowded right now. And I'd rather not give my congratulations in such a crush. Hopefully, there will be a quiet moment a bit later."

Joe looked skeptical at the prospect. He glanced over at the happy couple again, wondering if he'd ever seen Thomas not sneer so hard. It was quite foreign in his experience with the man. Jimmy's look of delight was old hat; he'd put up with it and his long periods of deeply annoying day dreaming for the last six weeks at the shop.

"I doubt they'd want to share any quiet moment that may come along with the likes of us," he opined.

"You're probably right; you are every once in while." She smiled at his eye roll and leaned over to whisper in his ear: "Let's find us a quiet moment, Joe. It's bloody bonkers in here."

Joe agreed immediately as two large blokes in drag and three women mounted the table next to the buffet and began singing five part harmony. They skulked around until they found themselves tucked behind a load bearing pillar near the back of the room. From there, they had a good view of everything going on, but the noise was damped a bit by the thick hangings on the wall behind them.

"At last," Joe huffed, wrapping his arms around Phyllis and pulling her to his chest. "Wedding receptions crawl right up my bloody nose."

"That's not where this one's likely to crawl before the night is over," she said, smiling into his chest at his sudden giggles.

"Oh God," he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "I'm best man at a gay wedding for my employee and the woman I love is standing up with the other groom who fucking hates me and we're both hiding behind a bloody pillar and somehow this all makes sense."

"As much sense as love ever does," Phyllis replied, clasping her hands behind his back and capturing his lips with her own. "And Thomas doesn't hate you. He just enjoys winding you up."

"He's bloody good at it. Do you think he'll chill out now he's getting his leg over with Jimmy every night in a legally sanctioned relationship?"

"I thought you said you didn't want to think about it," she said, snorting with laughter.

"Well, I don't...really….but I can't help thinking that they're lucky blokes." At her questioning eyebrow, he flushed and cleared his throat. "I mean, finding that one person you want to spend your life with and them wanting to do the same. And then making it official and all. Not everyone is that lucky."

"True." She ran her hands under the lapels of his suit and studied his suddenly serious expression.

He lost himself in her eyes for a moment, then the corners of his lips curled up in a sad little smile.

"What's that for?" she asked, gently smoothing her finger over his mouth. Joe opened his mouth, then closed it again. "C'mon...what's on your mind?"

"You are."

"Well, I didn't think it was the centerpieces, Joe..."

"You're always on my mind."

"And it makes you sad, does it?"

"You don't make me sad, love. Just the things I can't fix."

"Nobody asked you to fix them, Joe," she said gently. "Some things bump along fine when they're a bit broken."

Joe took a deep breath and peeked around the pillar as the lights dimmed and the DJ began plying his trade.

"Its their first dance. Should we go back out there?" he asked.

"They won't notice if we do. I'd rather you just tell me what's on your mind," she replied, cupping his cheek. "I thought wedding receptions made you cranky, not maudlin."

"Would ever consider getting married?" he blurted.

"What?"

He took another deep breath and held it, noting that her eyes were wide in surprise at his question, but he couldn't find any fear in her face. Exhaling loudly, he began to babble.

"I know the whole marriage thing didn't...well, it didn't work out for you before..."

"Joe-"

"...And that's because the bastard tried to kill you after years of abuse, so who could blame you for not thinking well of it..."

"Joe-"

"And its not like marriage is _required_ or anything, and plenty of couples just rub on quite well without it-"

" _Joe!_ " she finally barked, cutting him off mid sentence. "Will you, for God's sake, take a breath and just say what you want to bloody say!"

"I love you."

"I love you too," she snapped. "Is that it?"

"No..."

She waited, her arms crossed over her chest. When her foot began to tap on the floor, Joe winced. When her brows lowered and she cleared her throat, he reached out and grasped her hands in his.

"I don't want to bollocks this up," he said defensively. "I really don't."

"I think, in our relationship, bollocking things up is a given," she said with a little shake of her head as she squeezed his hands.

He brought them up to his lips and kissed the tattoo of a constallation on the back of her right hand.

"I'm the luckiest bloke in the world to have you in my life, and I don't want to push it."

"Push what, exactly?"

"It seems, I don't know, _selfish_ to want more. Especially if its not something you'd ever want."

"How do you know its not something I'd want?" she demanded.

"I… I don't know." He looked at her hopefully. " _Is_ it?"

Phyllis stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, chewing on one corner of her lip. He watched, not knowing if he was trembling from the tension of waiting for an answer or if he was just barely restraining himself from kissing the little marks left by her teeth. She smiled at him and licked her bottom lip slowly, watching him breathe a bit faster and lean closer to her.

"I think you'd better be more specific, Joe," she finally replied, making him straighten back up self consciously. "At this point in the conversation, I'm not really sure _what_ you're asking."

"Oh. Well...I guess I'm wondering if marriage is entirely off the table for you?"

"Marriage with who?" As he sputtered in response, she took pity on him. "With you, I assume. Unless you're asking on someone else's behalf, which would be more fucked up than almost anything Thomas has gotten up to in the past decade."

"Yeah. With me," he replied softly.

"Nothing's been off the table for me and you in the past two years, Joe." His eyebrows flew up. "I did say my horizons have expanded."

"Good to know," he said with a grin.

The music changed again and the rise and fall of conversation just beyond the pillar echoed around them. Joe reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Phyllis's smile and glanced around towards the dancing couples.

"They'll be looking for us soon," he said with a sigh.

"Some of them probably already are. We'd better get back out there." She smiled challengingly at him as she moved gracefully to the music. "I owe Thomas a dance. Were you going to dance with Jimmy?"

His face showed such a bewildering mix of emotions that she laughed out loud.

"Am I _supposed_ to?"

"Only if you want," she replied, trying to stifle her snickers.

"If I have to dance at all, I want to dance with you."

Phyllis grasped his hand and pulled him out from behind the pillar onto the dance floor. It took about half a song before he relaxed enough to stop glancing around nervously. Joe took advantage of a moment to pull her close enough to whisper.

"Phyllis, can I ask-"

"Not tonight," she whispered back with a smile he could hear. "Not here. This is _their_ night."

"But soon?"

"Very soon, Joe."

Thomas looked over at them and tipped Phyllis a wink over Jimmy's shoulder. Phyllis winked back.

"You owe me 20 quid," he mouthed at her from across the room.

Phyllis stuck up two fingers at him and pulled Joe a little closer to her.


End file.
